Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sudan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Todd Rundgren to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Barbara Tucker,
Inner City,
X-102,
Jandek,
Lalo Schifrin,
Qualms,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Zero Boys,
David Bowie,
Ituana,
Angry Samoans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Y Pants,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Technova,
Graham Central Station,
John Cale,
Siglo XX,
Black Flag,
Pantytec,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Monks,
Scott Walker,
Moss Icon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lalann,
Sex Pistols,
Moby Grape,
Marine Girls,
Tomorrow,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Evens,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Tremeloes,
Glambeats Corp.,
The United States of America,
Con Funk Shun,
Dorothy Ashby,
New York Dolls,
Minnie Riperton,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Cure,
John Holt,
Cymande,
The Music Machine,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bush Tetras,
Dual Sessions,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Harmonia,
The Stooges,
The Trojans,
Skriet,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tom Boy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Liliput,
Matthew Bourne,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.